Malkin and Me

Chapter Eight

Wednesday, we went to the mall. Evgeni wore a hat low down on his face, hoping not to be recognized. His interview aired the night before, we didn't watch it. In the food court, I spotted a familiar curly head. I stopped dead.

"Evgeni," I said, backing up. I wanted to run. Denis looked around, confused.

"What? Lida, are you okay?" Evgeni had concern all over his face.

"That's Antonio," I whispered. Evgeni's fists clenched, his knuckles white.

"Where?" I looked.

"Don't... Don't leave me by myself," I said, grabbing onto his arm. My heart was pounding in my throat.

"He deserves to get his teeth knocked out," Evgeni said. I had never heard that tone in his voice before, never seen him look that way. With Antonio right there, it reminded me too much of the anger that used to often control him. I left go of Geno, turning and walking away. I wanted to run. Instead, I walked as fast as I could, keeping my head low.

"Lida!" He called after me. He jogged to catch up and grabbed onto my arm, stopping me dead. I flinched away from him.

"Don't," I said.

"Lida, I'm not going to hurt you. Why are you running from me?" Evgeni demanded. I looked at his grip in my arm. He followed my gaze, dropping his hand immediately. We stood staring at each other. I took deep breaths, realizing what an idiot I was being.

"I'm sorry," I said, and burst into tears. He pulled me close to him, and I cried into his chest. Denis caught up to us, stopping dead when he saw me crying. He mouthed to Evgeni Is she okay? Geno nodded, smoothing my hair. They brought me back to the car and I was relieved to be out of there.

"I'm sorry," I apologized again in the car, to Denis this time. He shrugged it off. I felt like an idiot. I was embarassed. I was also shocked. What were the chances we would see Antonio?

The next day was the photoshoot. The press rep had been right. I loved it. First of all, they did hair and make up, then giving us different outfits to wear. One of them, I wore just a large Malkin jersey, and he wore dark wash jeans. My favourite picture was one of us both holding a hockey stick, Evgeni's arms around me.

"I love you guys, this is great!" The photographer enthused. His Russian was accented, though I wasn't sure what from. We spent the entire morning with him, and everyone ate lunch together; the photographer, make up, wardrobe, hair, and the afternoon's interviewer. I was shocked when the editor showed up with a small child behind her.

"Mama, look! It really is him," the little boy cried out, clasping her shirt hem and pointing.

"Did you think I was lying?" she asked. He ran up to where Evgeni and I were sitting.

"Scuse me, Mr Malkin, sir," the little boy said, "My name is Ali."

"Hi, Ali. You can call me Geno. This is my girlfriend, Lida." Evgeni shook Ali's hand.

"Mr. Geno, when I grow up, I want to be just like you. Mama says if I practise every day, then I can be as good as you. And if I eat all my supper. She said it takes vegetables to be two hundred and five pounds. Is it true? Do you eat vegetables?" I could tell Evgeni was trying not to laugh. Young Ali was so serious though, he managed to hold it in.

"I do eat all my vegetables. You want to know my secret? I melt cheese on top."

"Mr. Geno, do you think I can play in the NHL someday?"

"Of course. The KHL is just as much fun though, don't forget about it," Geno said.

"No one remembers KHL players outside of Russia. NHL players get remembered around the world... Gordie Howe, Wayne Gretzky, Evgeni Malkin and then me, Ali Gorkova!"